


83line | dusk/dawn

by plincess_cho (ai_hao)



Category: Super Junior
Genre: 83line, Gen, TeukChul, idk what this is, like always, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 16:52:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13885065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ai_hao/pseuds/plincess_cho
Summary: They're done filming for the day, and the two oldest members sit out on the chalet's deck and talk about the past.





	83line | dusk/dawn

**Author's Note:**

> The Chinese translation of this fic is available [here!](http://mssakuraiai.lofter.com/post/1f56f087_12d51b6a5)

They’ve just finished filming for the day, and the rest of the kids are all curled up in duvets on the floor ready to go to sleep. It’s kind of cute, Leeteuk thinks to himself. It’s like the old days when they all lived in the dorm and only had air conditioning in the living room. Each member would start out in their own rooms but soon the heat would bring them all into the main part of their dorm. They’d wake up sprawled out over the couches, the floor, and each other.

Those had been simpler times, Leeteuk decides. There had been so many of them back then, and even the living room had hardly been big enough for them members who lived in the dorms. These days, everyone had an apartment to himself and could put the AC unit wherever he wanted. It wasn’t the same.

Leeteuk bids them all goodnight and steps out onto the deck to take a phone call. He slides the glass door shut behind him and walks out to the railing. He pulls his phone out right as one of the PD’s from the show he’s recording tomorrow calls. “We need to walk through a few things before filming.”

So they do.

They discuss for a solid half hour with Leeteuk pacing across the deck. His body feels tired, but his brain is still firing at all cylinders. That’s been the case more and more lately: He’ll finally fall into bed after a long day with his brain still in hosting mode. The members tease him for not being able to turn it off, but the broadcast tone just comes out unconsciously. It’s become a part of him now.

Leeteuk hangs up the phone and stands looking out at the lake for a few minutes. They’re back at the retreat center that they’d gone to while filming _SJ Returns_. It had been so nice that they’d all decided to do it again for another episode of _Super TV._ This time, the weather is a bit too chilly for water excursions, which had suited everyone else just fine. Leeteuk thinks it’s nice being away from the city, even though they’re just an hour’s bus ride away. It reminds him that there’s more to the world than show biz.

He contemplates going back inside to try to sleep, but he knows he has to wind down a bit first. So instead, he sits in one of the deck chairs facing towards the lake and pulls his phone out again. He checks the time and decides it’s not too late to call his mom. She stays up late just like he does, and she answers on the third ring.

“Mom, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Leeteuk calls his mother more these days, and she’s always glad to hear from him. He regrets not keeping in touch with her more often, especially in the early days. It had seemed so important to run so quickly towards their goals, that often Leeteuk wondered who had suffered in the process. After the tragedy with his grandparents, he’d vowed to call his mother and his sister whenever he got the chance. It had done them good.

They chat for a few minutes before Leeteuk urges his mother to get some rest. She tells him to do the same, and they hang up. Leeteuk feels his mind start to calm down. His mother always had been the one to reorient him when things seemed to be spinning too quickly.

The door slides open behind him, and Leeteuk turns to see Heechul padding outside in his house slippers. He’s carrying two duvets and tosses one to Leeteuk before shutting the door and sitting in the other chair next to him. “Can’t sleep,” he grunts, tucking the duvet around him. “The kids kicked me out.”

Leeteuk chuckles softly. The two of them had started referring to the younger members as “the kids” more often in recent months. He’s not sure why they’d started, but it just seemed to fit. Donghae had told them he liked it. “You’re like my dads anyways,” he’d said. And that had been that.

“Thanks,” Leeteuk says, motioning to the duvet. “It was getting a bit cold.”

“What are you doing out here anyways?” Heechul asks.

Leeteuk holds up his phone. “Work.”

“Ah, I forget. You actually take the PD’s calls,” Heechul snorts. “I just show up.”

Leeteuk smiles. He and Heechul are mere days apart in age, but lightyears apart in personality. They’d known this since the day that they’d met, and the years they’d spent together had only proven their point. Heechul had said time and time again that it’s a good thing he hadn’t been made the leader. Super Junior would have disbanded long ago, and not from Donghae dumping water on them either.

“He just wants to get everything set for tomorrow,” Leeteuk replies. “He first wanted to make sure I was still coming despite this filming.”

“Ah,” Heechul says.

“I think things went well today,” Leeteuk replies. “Should be enough good footage for an episode or two.”

Heechul just grunts. The production side is much more Leeteuk’s speciality. He’s the one constantly focused on making sure the show comes out well and that it’s entertaining enough for the viewers. Heechul is just… Heechul. And it works.

They sit in silence for a few moments, looking out at the night sky. Stars twinkle above them, and Leeteuk tries to remember the constellations he’d studied in school. None come to mind.

“The sky is really clear out here,” Heechul comments. “I can see more stars than I’ve seen in the past twelve years combined.”

“Yeah,” Leeteuk agrees, and he’s probably right. They’ve spent so much of the last decade in big cities where the light from buildings and billboards and stadiums chokes out any celestial luminescence. And besides, they haven’t had much time to just sit and look up at the stars. “Man, twelve years.”

“Right? And now we’re on to number thirteen.”

 _If we can make it that long_ , is the unspoken sentiment that hangs in the air between them.

“Yeah,” Leeteuk says. “I can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Heechul replies. “Sometimes I have dreams that we’re rookies again, trying to prove ourselves for the first time.” He shakes his head. “We were so naïve back then. If I had known what I know now, I probably would’ve given it all up at the beginning.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Leeteuk murmurs, but he doesn’t even believe his own words.

“Please,” Heechul scoffs. “I’d quit so many times before we even debuted that I’m still surprised the company kept me on. It was probably that kid Yunho who had gone to Lee Soo Man himself to convince him to let me stay after he dragged me back from Gangwondo.”

“I’d believe it.”

A few minutes of silence pass, before Leeteuk says, “I didn’t think we’d make it. Any of us.”

“Jungsoo-ya, you were the only one who did think we could make it,” Heechul says without hesitation. His voice is matter-of-fact and leaves no room to argue. “Without you, we wouldn’t have made it past those first few months, let alone the past thirteen years.”

He’s not wrong. There had been few at the beginning who had supported them, and even fewer who had actually believed that they’d had what it takes to make it all the way. Half of the members would have said that they believed they could make it, but Leeteuk knew that had just been less of a belief in their abilities and more wishful thinking. Heechul had been one of the more realistic ones.

 _I want to go into acting_ , he’d said. He’d had a permanent part in a daytime serial already, and Leeteuk knew he’d been hoping that Super Junior could give him the next boost he needed to get further into the acting world. Kibum had been that way too, and the two of them had starred in the same drama.

Leeteuk had first wanted to be a singer, but somewhere along the way that dream had changed. He remembers walking into the KBS studios for his and Eunhyuk’s first day of recording for _Sukira_ all those years ago and realizing that maybe… maybe singing wasn’t what he wanted to do forever. _Sukira_ had just been the beginning of course, and now he had hosted more shows than he could count.

And somewhere, he’d stopped thinking of himself as Park Jungsoo, skinny kid from a small neighborhood in Seoul, and had starting thinking of himself as Super Junior’s Leeteuk, the “special one.” In fact, the only people who still call him Jungsoo are his family members and Heechul, who may as well be his family.

“It’s been a long road,” he says out loud. Heechul nods his agreement, and Leeteuk continues, “And I couldn’t have done it without you.”

For once, Heechul doesn’t argue with him. There had been times in the past where Leeteuk had expressed the same sentiments only to have Heechul vehemently deny them. _Without me causing problems you mean? Without having to constantly clean up after me? Without me? Jungsoo, please._

But everything that Leeteuk says is true. From the early days where Heechul had held him up on the metal box after he’d nearly collapsed after training; to how Heechul had acted as his enforcer, getting the others to listen to him; to all the nights they’d spent talking about their fears and hopes for the future. It had been hard for Leeteuk to open up to Heechul at first. They were so different, after all, and Leeteuk was supposed to be the leader.

 _I’m literally nine days younger than you are, so don’t come at me with that age bullshit_ , Heechul had said. _Let me share your burdens._

 _But I’m the leader!_ Leeteuk had protested.

 _I don’t care if you’re the President of South Korea!_ Heechul had shot back. _You burning up into flames isn’t good for any of us so get the stick out of your ass and talk to me._

Leeteuk hadn’t. They’d fought for a good week before he’d finally abandoned his pride and gone to apologize. It had taken another week or so before Heechul had finally forgiven him, but then they’d stayed up the entire night just talking about things that Leeteuk had never shared with any of the members before.

They’d fought a lot over the years. Heechul had fought with just about everyone in the band at one point or another, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected. Then there’d been that stupid fight during the _Bonamana_ promotions, “The Battle of Incheon” they’d called it. They’d been at this insufferable stalemate for a solid three months before Leeteuk had finally ended the cold war between them.

 _What made you want to patch things up with him?_ A host had asked on a show once.

Leeteuk had looked the host in the eye and replied, _I realized that I didn’t want to lose him._

And he hadn’t. Not then, not during enlistments, not during long nights of filming, and not during the tumultuous events of the past few years.

“Look at us,” Heechul says, interrupting Leeteuk’s thoughts. “We’re like a bunch of uncles reminiscing about the Korean War.”

Leeteuk chuckles. “I suppose we are.”

They sit outside for another few minutes before Heechul announces that he’d cold and drags Leeteuk back in with him. They find an empty patch of floor next to Donghae and push him over a bit to make room. They settle in under their duvets, checking their phones for any last minute messages that might have come through. Heechul rummages around for a charger and Leeteuk tosses him his own phone to plug in as well. Then he leans back against his makeshift pillow and closes his eyes.

_You were the only one who did think we could make it._

Leeteuk falls asleep with Heechul’s voice still echoing in his ears. They’ve made it this far, and despite all of their differences, all of their fights, and all of their hardships, they’re still able to fall asleep next to each other at the end of the day.

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love ♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/plincess_cho) / [tumblr](http://plincess-cho.tumblr.com/)


End file.
